Dice [h.s.]

38

I walked over the grey concrete to the edge of the roof. I looked over, noticing the large drop to the bottom. It was really high, but I wasn't scared. Weirdly, it intrigued me a bit.

I wonder if I'd live if I fell

I stepped back and sat down on the floor. I dangled my legs over the edge of the roof, feeling the hollow air below me. The feeling was nice. As if someone could just come up from behind me and kill me. I'd be free of my feelings I guess.

I dug into my back jean pocket and pulled out a black lighter and stray cigarette. I laid the white stick between my chapped lips and cupped the bud before igniting the lighter and setting the cigarette on fire.

The initial flight of smoke felt like heaven as it journeyed into my mouth and down my throat. I pushed it out before I would cough, watching the smoke pour out the side of my mouth.

I needed this. The fresh air, the drugs, the distraction. Life is like a million distracts rolled into one. That's what's so beautiful about it, I guess. It's fascinating to think your life is built on things to make you forget about another.

I took another drag of my distraction, smiling at the feeling. The burning in my throat was sometimes better than alcohol. But I could always go for a good tequila shot.

Just then, I heard the door open. My head darted behind me to see Harry shutting the door quietly behind him. He hadn't noticed me as he instantly brought up a cigarette, lit it, and took a suck.

His cheeks hollowed perfectly as his tattooed hands held the white stick in between them. His hair was blowing in the wind, signaling a storm was approaching. But neither of us really cared.

I turned back around to face in front of me, not really wanting to make a fuss about his presence. I wasn't in the mood for feeling the pain right now, so why not pretend like it's not there?

"Life's funny, isn't it?" I spoke unexpectedly, keeping a dead stare on the ground below me while taking a drag of my cigarette.

"What?" Harry spoke from behind me after grasping I was there. I just laughed at his confusion.

"What are the odds that you'd be here when I needed fresh air?" I chuckled lightly to myself.

He didn't respond right away, but I knew he wanted to. I felt his legs press against my back as I sat on the edge. He wasn't applying pressure. He was just letting me know he was there.

"Slim." He responded.

I looked up to his standing above me. His head was up, admiring the view. We were surrounded by buildings and houses. The sound of ambulances and police cars.

"What if I just fell?" I questioned, looking down at the street again and sucking on my cancer stick.

Harry waited for me to continue.

"I just happened to slip off this roof and fall to my death. You'd think it would help?" I questioned again.

"Help with what?" He asked, his voice raspy and deep as usual. His british accent is very prominent at this moment.

"The pain. From you, Natalie, Niall. The unexplainable heartbreak. The confusing feelings. You think it'd all go away?" I turned my head to the side, getting a good view of him out of the corner of my eye.

"Kennedy I'm so-"

"I think it would. All the suffering I've endured would be gone if I just slipped. We can call it an accident." I cut him off, trying to avoid his useless apology. It won't work, not right now.